


House of the Rising Sun

by bgoodg



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, New Orleans, Public Sex, Red Kryptonite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:59:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgoodg/pseuds/bgoodg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing Clark can think about is finding Lex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House of the Rising Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and not written for profit. The characters mentioned belong to their respective creators and owners. No defamation is implied.

The first thing Clark notices is the humidity. The way his shirt sticks to his back and how each gulp of air seems to come with bits of water. He’s ridiculously hot with his flannel, worn jeans and work boots. But changing had seemed secondary to finding Lex.

Clark’s in a cemetery, not one with headstones and grave markers but one with tombs that bring the dead eye level. No one had witnessed his super speed entrance but he can hear a group of tourists making their way towards him. Their tour guide is regaling them with tales of ghosts, vampires and voodoo queens, milking them for all they’re worth.

Clark smirks and he’d like to think it’s a good imitation of Lex’s but a bit of red rock doesn’t compare to growing up a Luthor. He speeds past the tourists, creating a mysterious gust of wind that’ll be the highlight of their visit.

He contemplates taking a cab but who needs four wheels when you have the speed of Hermes? Instead he runs along the highway, heading towards the Superdome and buildings of downtown New Orleans.

Clark stops, finding himself under the shadow of Jackson’s Square. He takes a moment to breath in the scents. The smell of the river mixes with freshly baked beignets from Cafe du Monde.

There's something about the city that sings to him. Tells him it's okay to take what he wants. Okay to ignore his parents, his conscious and society's morals. It's okay here in the Big Easy.

“Ain’t you a fast lil thing.”

Clark spins around.

An old lady is smiling at him. She’s wrapped in an array of brightly colored garmets, a scarf on top of her head. She’s sitting on a plastic beach chair, an umbrella over her head and a sign that proclaims ‘Fortunes and Tarot Card Readings’ in Mardi Gras colors sits besides her. “Don’t be worryin boy. Old Mrs. Cherie ain’t gonna be tellin your secrets to no one.”

Subtlety hadn’t been factored into Clark’s game plan. He’s beginning to think maybe it should be. And although he doubts anyone would believe the old lady, loose ends only lead to trouble.

Mrs. Cherie takes no notice of Clark’s dilemma. The crunched up paper she’s using as a fan continues to move, her foot still tapping to the beats of the bar across the street. “Better get goin boy. He ain’t gonna wait forever.”

Clark growls, “Lex belongs to me.”

“Then get,” She shoos him off with her makeshift fan, going back to people watching.

With one last look Clark leaves. He starts walking deeper into the Vieux Carre, letting what’s been driving him lead him to Lex.

Clark finds him dining at Muriel’s. Through the large open windows he can see Lex perfectly: wining and dining the latest trollop who will help advance LexCorp.

The maître d’ looks on in horror as Clark enters in his farm clothes. But one menacing look and the man is intimidated into silence. Clark stalks towards Lex’s table, all eyes in the restaurant turning to him.

“Clark?” Lex frowns then smiles, his face not sure what emotion it wants to reveal. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d say hi.” He grabs an unoccupied chair from the next table, swinging it around so that he’s sitting on it backwards. “Aren’t you pretty?” The girl smiles and Clark takes her hand, kissing it before remarking, “And I bet he’ll still respect you in the morning.”

“Clark,” Lex fights back a laugh, trying to look indignant on the girl’s behalf and failing.

The girl’s face sours and she instantly takes back her hand. “Friend of yours, Lex?”

“Jessica, this is Clark. A friend from Smallville.”

“His very good friend,” Clark adds. He smiles but his eyes show hints of electric red.

She swallows nervously. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well Lex. Perhaps we can pick this up another time?”

“Doubt it,” Clark remarks, watching as Jessica grabs her bag and hastily leaves.

“Well that wasn’t very nice Clark.” Lex remarks, annoyance and amusement blending together.

Clark shrugs, moving so that he‘s closer to Lex. “Thought I’d save you from yourself.”

“How very thoughtful. Although it does raise the question of how you knew I was in need of saving.”

It’s as close to a direct question as Lex is going to ask. ‘How did you get here?’ ‘Why are you here?’ Going unsaid as per their agreement.

Clark smiles for a response. He swipes Lex’s bowl, digging into the spicy gumbo mixture.

Lex remains silent, sipping at his scotch every so often and sneaking in sideways glances.

Clark waits until Lex has a full mouth before asking, “Want me to give you a blowjob?”

An undignified snort comes out of Lex: reminding Clark of the time Pete shot milk through his nose in the third grade. Clark leans in and whispers, “Do you think you could control yourself?” His fingers brushes along Lex’s hand. “Could you not call out my name as I wrapped my lips around your cock?” Clark can hear Lex’s heart speed up, his blood racing as fast as Lex likes to drive.

In his peripheral vision Clark can see the waiter approach.

“Sir, would you like-”

“We’re fine,” Lex grinds out, his breath hitching as Clark’s hand slips underneath the table.

The man hastily leaves.

“Not nice Lex.” Clark rewards him with a possessive brush across Lex’s already hard cock.

Lex’s knees jerk up, slamming into the table and jarring the china and crystal.

Clark laughs as a rarely seen blush rolls across Lex’s face.

“So I get rewarded for being rude?” Lex manages to ask after taking a calming drink of whiskey.

Clark squeezes Lex’s thigh. “What can I say? It turns me on.” To demonstrate his point Clark slips under the table. It’s a large round one, gracefully covered with a white slipcover. Clark will have to maneuver so that his rear end won’t stick out but the momentary discomfort will be worth it.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lex grinds out above him.

Clark responds by pulling Lex lower in his seat, that way his head won’t hit the bottom of the table on the up stroke.

“Quiet now Lex. Wouldn’t want people to think you’re talking to yourself.”

Lex curses under his breath, his left hand coming down to swat at Clark’s larger one.

Clark grabs the elegant hand. It fits easily between his own larger ones. Lex is still cursing above him but the triad stops as soon as the first digit slips into Clark’s mouth. It’s warm and solid against his tongue, a preview of what Lex’s cock will feel like.

“Oh fuck.”

Clark smiles around the finger in his mouth. His teeth catch on the knuckle, earning a low moan and probably a few questioning glances.

"Mmm, this soup's really good," Lex exaggerates.

Clark laughs underneath the table, his hand moving until it's settled on Lex's cock. With two fingers slipping into his mouth Clark begins unbuttoning the tailored slacks.

"Fuck,"

Clark lets go of Lex's fingers. They curl into Clark's hair, urging him downwards. He doesn't need the encouragement. Since meeting Lex, this is where he's wanted to be.

There's silk boxers underneath and Clark can't help but laugh as he mouths Lex's hard dick. The vibration causes Lex's grip to tighten, tightening turning just slightly painful and sending a bolt of pleasure down to Clark's cock.

Clark is sure someone must hear them, but no one comes to put a stop to their sordid doings.

He yanks the boxers down, jostling Lex in his seat.

The first taste of Lex almost makes Clark come in his pants.

He purposefully begins slowly, just enjoying the feel of Lex. His tongue makes long swipes along Lex's steel cock, going from the root to the tip in a deliciously slow manner.

"Please Clark," It's said in barely a whisper but Clark can feel the desperation and hunger behind the plea.

Clark smiles. He completely swallows Lex, earning a satisfied moan and full body shudder.

Clark gets lost in the pure bliss of tasting Lex, of being so close to the man he's been dreaming about. Clark never thought he'd get to touch Lex like this.

The ring is heavy on Clark's hand as Lex comes with a stifled moan. His hand travels down to his own hard cock, palming himself a few times before coming with Lex’s name on his lips. He uses a fallen linen napkin to clean himself up.

Clark settles back into his seat with a satisfied smirk. Lex straightens himself underneath the table and takes a large drink of ice water.

"Have fun, Clark?" Lex questions.

"I enjoyed myself immensely." Clark reaches for Lex, threading their fingers together.

Lex brings their hands together, the soft restaurant lightning picking up the red of Clark's class ring. Lex examines the stone, his eyebrows knitting together.

"New?"

Clark nods. His heart is suddenly in his throat. What if Lex asks me to take it off?

But Lex dismisses the ring and instead reaches into his pocket. He pulls out an electronic key card. "Room 2A. I'll be there in five."

"Where are you going to be?" Clark asks as he stands up and takes the card.

Lex smirks. "I have to bribe the restaurant to keep this escapade from getting into the newspapers."

Clark smiles proudly. He leans in to give Lex a departing kiss.

"I want you naked and hard by the time I get there," Lex whispers into Clark's ear.

He nods, his cock coming to life again.

"And Clark," Lex's lips mouth against his ear, "keep the ring on".


End file.
